


Sex Drive

by mala_ptica



Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alpha!Charles, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Charles You Slut, Crack, Emotionally Constipated Erik, M/M, Omega!Erik
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-08
Updated: 2015-09-08
Packaged: 2018-04-19 17:10:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4754420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mala_ptica/pseuds/mala_ptica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik's probably going to give Charles a heart attack.  Charles should say something.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sex Drive

It has never been a secret that Charles Xavier likes sex. When he lost his virginity, his partner sold him out to TMZ, and overwhelmed with the attention, he made it work for him. He spent a few good years of his teenage existence falling in and out of widely publicized affairs, and being caught literally with his pants down (and cameras flashing) at more than a few heat parties.

The scion of the Xavier fortune made a mockery of his house’s good name by becoming one of the most notorious socialite alphas of his generation, even after he went to university. Even then, it was not uncommon for pictures of him to show up on snapchat and Instagram, against his wishes, as videos were taken of him drunkenly flirting in bars or snoring after one of many one night stands. His step-father tried to disown him, but after a lengthy court battle, it was found that Brian Xavier’s iron clad will prevailed, and Charles would not lose his share in the company, no matter how many people on reddit had seen his dick.

Ok, he was insatiable, but that was fine, it was his prerogative and it made life harder for his family, which suited him even better.

But honestly, he was still unprepared for Erik Lehnsherr.

They had been married for a glorious two months after a two week montage-esque courtship in Cuba, and they had been shagging like they were in heat, or so Charles thought, until Erik actually went into heat.

Usually in the morning, Charles’s powers were fairly fuzzy until he got his coffee, so it wasn’t a surprise entirely that he saw Erik before he telepathically felt him that day. What surprised him was what Erik was wearing, or rather, not wearing. Which was anything at all.

This was the thing about marrying an internationally known playboy philanthropist genius telepath: the tabloids wanted to know. Erik had been so terrified of the cameras that for the first week living at the mansion, he had insisted on blackout curtains on the windows and had worn a parka, hat and sunglasses indoors for good measure. Half of their fumblings at the house had been fully clothed, and while Charles found this adorable at first, it was getting on his nerves. Lately, things had cooled as Charles had come down with a cold, and both had resumed their regular work schedules. It had seemed like they were setting a very nice, post-honeymoon rhythm to live with, and maybe if Charles was lucky, he could convince Erik to take his pants off again.

So the sight of Erik’s cock in broad, glorious daylight - in full view of an open window – one bright March day was enough to make him almost drop his coffee.

Erik stretched and rolled his shoulders, the lines of his neck beautiful in the sunlight. He walked over to Charles, and took the coffee mug straight out of his hand and took a sip, then gave Charles a kiss. 

“Good morning, liebchen,” Erik growled, and wrapped his arms around Charles’s waist. Erik’s breath was stale and weird, there was one thing mutant powers couldn’t cure, the anti-aphrodisiac bloom of morning breath.

“Uhm.” Charles responded, as Erik leaned in for another kiss and bit Charles’s lip. “Who are you and what have you done with my husband?”

“Can’t a man give his honey a good morning kiss?” Erik mumbled, transferring his attention to Charles’s neck and kissing up and down like a thirsty teenager.

“Yes but usually you don’t-“ and then a breeze blew in from the window, carrying the scent directly into Charles’s face. _Oh,_ he thought foggily, _oh. Oh damn._

He was still a bit stuffed up, or else he would have picked up on it sooner. Erik was in heat.

“Don’t what?” Erik asked playfully, his hands clutching Charles’s ass. Charles felt his body respond sooner than his mind did. He realized that they hadn’t really discussed heat schedules.

“You’re aware that people can see you, aren’t you?” Charles put his hand to Erik’s forehead, to feel for a temperature – burning up, yes, definitely in heat – and Erik nuzzled into it, like a damn cat.

“They can see you too, but they can’t touch,” he quipped, and Charles felt his stomach turn at the cheesiness of the line.

“Riiight.”

“Take me on the countertop,” Erik whispered in his ear, and despite Erik’s horrible breath, Charles’s cock hardened at the command. It took some effort to distract Erik long enough to close the window and draw the blinds, and he almost didn’t get them closed before he found himself tackled to the floor. Not that he was complaining.

Luckily Charles hadn’t taken any sick days yet so he was able to call in for a substitute to teach his class (though he was certain the photos of him and Erik kissing were already making the twitter rounds if he guessed right by the snickering on the other end of the line.)

This turned into a full on marathon. Charles thought he liked sex, but he didn’t understand that having a bonded partner in heat meant no eating, no sleeping, and hiding in the bathroom to get a rest. By the end of it all, he had used up all of his sick days, and personal days and vacation days, and was running out of excuses. He was so exhausted he thought he was going to need an IV (not that he was complaining. Ok maybe a little).

So it was even more upsetting when, after all of this, Erik coldly informed him that he had finished his heat, and was going to be busy writing a novel for a month, so if Charles could kindly not talk to him except through the door, then that would be helpful.

This continued for most of their relationship. Erik would ignore him, and then expect him to perform like a teenage boy on ecstasy. If before Charles had been like a semi-automatic or even at the best of times, an automatic pistol, after they had imprinted, Erik became a machine gun.

The worst part was, Erik seemed completely unaffected – by Charles’s plight, or by the physical strains of pregnancy. They had three litters in three years, and Erik’s waistline hadn’t changed a fraction of an inch. And Erik’s sex drive didn’t change, either. Things were either feast or famine, drought or flash flood, monastic celibacy or Roman orgy. Charles had to leave his position at the university and satisfy himself with research projects with Xavier Corp. (which luckily were very interesting) where he could set his own hours and not worry about students coming up to him with camera phone pictures of him getting a blowjob _from his husband, thank you_ in the middle of Central Park. In Charles and Erik’s defense, Erik’s heat had been off schedule, and they thought they were alone. In the end, he just had to content himself with the irregularities of life, and make sure he was fully hydrated.

Could be worse.

**Author's Note:**

> credits to awfullythick for enabling me.


End file.
